Orks and Heretics
by TheZadak
Summary: The Silver Griffons have been called in to deal with an "Ork problem" but a terminator squad discovers something much worse while defending the planet from the foul Xenos.
1. Chapter 1

Brother Gechorus sat in his cabin and polished his armour. Gazing into the eyes of his helmet he considered the weight of what it meant to have been entrusted with it; terminator armour was not a commodity that was sparingly handed out and he looked on it with pride. He was anticipating the next time he would have to don its protection and relished the opportunity to represent the Emperor's wrath. To be a space marine was to be humanity's finest and to be one of only five terminators in the company was to be the best of the best.

There was tapping at the door, who would knock on the cabin of a space marine? Gechorus set his helmet down on the bed beside him, and rose to open the door.

Standing outside was a woman, a pretty thing, she was wearing a plain green outfit, similar to the fatigues guardsmen would wear, but with none of the combat gear or imperial iconography. She carried a book, clutched against her chest, as if it was some form of comfort to her in an unfamiliar place.

"Hello," she said in a timid and shaky voice, "I am writing an account of the space marines on this campaign and I was wondering if I could ask you some questions."

"A writer?" wondered Gechorus out loud, "Do you have permission to be here?"

"I do," said the woman, she flicked the corners of her book until she found the document she wanted; she then showed it to the space marine. "It has all the required seals, this is perfectly legal, don't worry."

Gechorus was still suspicious, in all his time in the chapter he had never heard of any form of documentarist being allowed with the Astartes themselves, and he hadn't heard anything of this meeting beforehand.

"You don't have to let me in," said the writer, "if you don't want to take part, I can just move on, it's totally up to you."

Gechorus handed back her stamped document and asked, "What is this for?"

"It's writing for the masses," she said with a smile, "I want to make the space marines look more heroic by giving the people a more intimate view of how they operate."

Gechorus opened his cabin door wide, inviting her in. There are not many items of comfort in a space marine's cabin and Gechorus had to indicate to her that she could sit on the bed, and she did. She sat cross legged at the foot of the bed, she was careful not to touch anything in the room, like the massive terminator armour that was layed out on the floor, and she kept her distance from the helmet on the bed, for fear of disturbing any sacred rituals she might be interrupting. She bounced up and down slightly to get herself comfortable, but seemed disappointed by the hardness of the mattress.

Gechorus sat on the bed where he was polishing his armour earlier.

"I'm sorry," said the writer, "I never said who I was; my name is Xilthara," she held her hand out to shake the space marine's.

"I have never heard that name before, where are you from?" asked Gechorus, ignoring the handshake.

"It's an unusual name, I know," said Xilthara with a smile, "my mother comes from Salidaris, and she wanted to give me a name from her home land."

Gechorus barely acknowledged her reply; he lifted his helmet from his side and continued to inspect it.

"And your name is?" she coaxed, tentatively.

"Gechorus."

"OK, Gechorus." Xilthara opened her book, took a pen from her pocket and began writing. "I see you wear terminator armour," she said, craning her neck round to see if she could get a better view of the space marine's face. "How did you receive the right to wear it into battle? No doubt through some heroic act in service to the Emperor."

"I earned the honour of wearing terminator armour through experience; for five hundred years, I have served the Emperor in war, I have been entrusted with this armour as a sign of my devotion and my combat prowess." Xilthara smiled on, nodding slightly to encourage him to divulge more. "There was no single act of heroism that elevated me within the chapter, no one story to tell."

"Can you tell me a little more about yourself?" she asked.

Gechorus looked at her, "What do you want to know? You already know that I am part of the Silver Griffons' Third Company, what else is there?"

"Where are you from?" asked Xilthara, "You weren't always a space marine."

"I come from Theadosis, like all other Silver Griffons," he explained, "I was a fine warrior in my youth and I was chosen to become a space marine. My story through the chapter is the same as any other Astartes here, we all went through the same training, most of us went on the same missions, and we all had the same experiences."

"How do you feel about where we are going? We are in warp travel now, is it like any other mission? Does it feel any different?"

"No," said the space marine simply, "We have been called out to face an Ork problem. It's a mission like any other."

"Do you ever get nervous before a mission? I would get nervous if I had to go and fight all the time."

"I have been waging war for five hundred years," said Gechorus, "and I know no fear."

Gechorus kept answering her questions until she decided it was time to stop. He answered all her questions fully, but when Xilthara had gone, he couldn't help but feel that he hadn't given her anything she didn't already know; like her entire visit to him was a complete waste of time. He continued to prepare his armour…

* * *

><p>Gechorus serviced his assault cannon, every barrel, every join, every moving part, had to be in total working order and in the best possible condition. He checked his Powerfist for damage, there was minimal damage to the middle finger, but smoothing out the small imperfection was still a long and difficult task as ceramite is hard and strong, like the noble Astartes that wear it.<p>

Servicing one's own tactical dreadnought armour was hard work, but that was good. Everything he was doing, he was doing in the Emperor's name; all the work, all the toil, all the bloodshed, all for the Emperor and Holy Terra. What more noble cause could there be. He kept working away, for days he worked his armour to perfection; keeping the mind focussed on his holy work for the emperor, for an idle mind wonders in dark places.

There was another knock on the door, it was Xilthara. "You disturb me again?" he probed.

"Hi, we are getting near the end of our warp travel, could I ask for some more of your time?"

"If you must," he said as he opened his door wide for her again.

She looked around, the war gear she saw the first time she was in the cabin was still placed on the floor in exactly the same way as it was the last time she saw it. "Have you been servicing your armour the whole time?" asked Xilthara as she made her way to the bed again.

"My armour is my soul, and my soul's dedication, its armour," Gechorus recited.

"Yeah, I heard that," she said, "but I didn't know you actually took it literally," she sat down on the bed, where she sat before, "it's been two whole days," she explained to him, "has anything changed since the last time we spoke?"

Gechorus was almost unaware of the time passing, as he was so engrossed in the maintenance of his equipment. "I am still awaiting the call to arms and the drop with my battle brothers, nothing has changed."

She opened her book and got her pen ready to write, "Do you talk with your brothers at all before a drop?"

"We do not make time for idle chatter."

She looked at him puzzled, "You don't talk about anything?" He just gave her a stern look back in agreement. She looked around the room, searching for something to talk about. "Can I take a closer look at your armour?"

Gechorus didn't take long to make up his mind, "Of course," he said. He knew that the worst she could do was to smudge the perfect sheen he had given the silver, and that wasn't all that bad considering what the Orks were likely to do to it in a few hours.

"I thought the tech priests maintained the space marine armour."

"In this chapter, the adeptus mechanicus are responsible for repairs; but it is the responsibility of each Astartes to take pride in the appearance of his armour, and to ensure that it will work correctly."

She crouched down to inspect it, it was immaculate, she dare not touch it, for a mere finger print would spoil the beauty of it. "It's perfect," she commented.

"It is the representation of my dedication to the Emperor."

"You should be very happy with your job," she commented, "it looks like new."

A small smile crept on to the face of the cold, hard Space Marine, he wasn't used to complements.

She continued to inspect the rest of what was on show. She could recognise the big solid parts of the armour, but she couldn't guess the exact purpose of what she could only assume were the mechanical and interface components of the apparatus. "How long does it take to put it on?"

"It takes a team of twenty tech priests and servitors two hours to fully arm me."

"Two hours?" she exclaimed.

"The armour is complicated."

"Yeah, I know but that's insane. I assume it takes that long again to remove it?"

Gechorus nodded. "I will only have it removed at the end of the campaign, when the tech priests have the time to do so."

"It must take a lot of dedication," she commented.

"We are all fully dedicated, heart and soul, body and mind."

She looked thoughtful as she wrote in her book. "I wish I could have that kind of dedication," she said.

"Then thank the Emperor that you don't have to."


	2. Chapter 2

The servitors came to knock on Gechorus' door to escort him to the armoury. It was time to get ready.

After the long process of arming he went to meet his brothers in the drop pod bay, fully kitted out and ready to get going. His brothers belonged to Squad Pantaleon, named after its sergeant; the other three members of the squad were Remus, Kato and Loukios.

"Brother Kato," he said, greeting the brother closest to him.

"Brother Gechorus," replied Kato, "What kept you?"

They spoke over prayers to the machine god being muttered by a tech priest who was inspecting a modified drop pod. "I came as quickly as I could," explained Gechorus, "but the servitors were slow in summoning me. Have I missed anything?"

"Only mission details; we are going into a dense manufacturing zone, full of Orks. So we are taking a drop pod, teleporting in would be too dangerous," explained Kato.

Gechorus eyed the drop pod; it hadn't changed since the last time he was in it and plummeting towards a planet's surface; back when he was in power armour. "And our objective?"

"The green skins have taken a manufactorum, we need to take it back as soon as possible. The longer we leave it in their hands, the more of it they will destroy."

Remus spoke up, "Mission details are pointless, brother. We are going down there to kill Orks, that's all that matters."

The tech priest was almost done inspecting the drop pod; he stepped back and was now whispering words of prayer to the machine spirits that dwelled within. "Bring these noble warriors to their destination straight and true, serve these masters well; and be still, sweet spirits." He left a moment of pause before telling the space marines, "You may enter."

The five terminator armoured space marines climbed into the drop pod and strapped themselves in, each member of the squad had a door to himself, as terminator was too big to fit in a drop pod as power armour did.

The voice box of the tech priest buzzed into life to give them one last reminder of their objective, "The spirits will guide you to a walking distance from the entrance to the holy manufactorum. You will be able to see the building from where you land. Destroy the orks, space marines; the desecration of a manufactorum is a great blaspheme against the Machine God."

"…and the Emperor," finished the Sergeant. "We will reclaim it, in his name."

"The Emperor protects," said the tech priest as the doors to the drop pod began to close up around the marines.

"You looking forward to this?" asked Kato.

"As always, brother," replied Gechorus. "Orks die well."

* * *

><p>Drop pods were uncomfortable; they were loud, claustrophobic, and the drops were badly affected by turbulence. They crashed with force that would have killed a normal human; they knew they had landed on solid ground. Bullets were pinging off the armour plating of the drop pod, this is how they knew they had landed in the right place. Pantaleon gave the marines a few seconds to recover their senses from the landing and get their harnesses off. "The Emperor Protects," he stated before slamming the button to open the doors, they fell and the slaughter began.<p>

Orks did die well. Like countless times before, Gechorus mowed them down, mob after mob. He must have killed fifty orks within a minute of the doors opening, and they kept coming. Occasionally one would get close, but what could an ork boy do against terminator armour? Needless to say he would be smashed by Gechorus' power fist.

The dings of bouncing bullets were louder against armour but no more dangerous than when they were hitting the side of the drop pod. Gechorus could feel his ammo box getting light as the horde began to thin, but before it was empty the orks had turned and run from the terminators. They must have realised that the space marines were not going down easy. They continued to shoot some of the fleeing orks, to make sure that any fear that they had struck them, stayed in their minds.

Gechorus knew the action would start again, or they would have to move out, so he took a moment to get a new ammo box from the drop pod.

"Form up," ordered Sergeant Pantaleon. And they did, just infront of the sergeant's drop pod door. Looking around, there were many ork bodies that they had killed and some human bodies that were old and rotten; the remains of the planetary defence force that tried so nobly but ultimately failed in keeping the orks away. One body of a human defender did not have a lasgun beside it. Gechorus hoped that this man had not dropped his gun and abandoned his duties as hopeless as the odds may have seemed, for an act such as this would have been shameful betrayal to the Emperor.

Pantaleon pointed up to a building with his sword; the building bared a massive seal of the Adeptus Mechanicus, "That is the Manufactorum, and our target." described Pantaleon. "It's an important building, and the orks will know this."

"So we can expect more than just boys when we're inside?" assumed Gechorus.

"Yes," agreed the sergeant, "So it will be a bit more of a challenge if the Emperor is smiling on us."

They advanced to the Manufactorum every now and then a mob of orks would try to intercept them, but that was no trouble for the marines. Opening the door to the Manufactorum they found the ork desecration of the huge manufacturing floor had already started to take a hold. They had dismantled some of the machines, no doubt planning to use them for their own ends, and had erected primitive fortifications and shrines to their ork gods.

Opening fire again, the marines dealt with the orks in the immediate area with no problems at all. "Keep on guard," warned Pantaleon, "there will be more orks on their way."

And sure enough, the thundering of hundreds of ork feet and the tell-tale waaagh that always accompanied them was heard. The orks flooded in from all angles. It didn't take long for Gechorus to empty his gun into countless ork victims, now came time to reload; Gechorus could reload in a matter of seconds, given the space for it, but with hundreds of orks trying to beat him down it was much more of a challenge. For a time his assault cannon was essentially a close combat weapon as he waded his way through the green tide to get to a corner with slightly less orks so he could reload.

Gechorus could just make out some vox chatter over the immense sound of the orks, "Walker Incoming!" It was Kato. If he was the one to hear its footsteps, then it must be coming from somewhere near him. Gechorus turned to look round at the other marine's locations. They had all become separated from eachother, drawn into deeper fighting with the greenskins, or pushed back and looking for space to reload. This was not good, the orks kept pouring in, and with all their guns empty, they were unable to kill them at the same speed they were arriving.

The wall Kato was standing next to shook, and started to crumble, a massive thud just hit it; a great creature must have slammed itself against it, or more likely, the walker Kato mentioned. Another smash, it was trying to get though, but Gechorus had his own ork problems to worry about. Every time he killed one with his power fist or a slam from his assault cannon, two more seemed to take its place.

Finally the wall fell, revealing a hulking Deff Dread, it dwarfed Kato. Now this was a real threat; ork boys had very little chance of doing damage to terminator armour, but a deff dread could put enough force into its massive klaws to crush right through ceramite. The ork boys around Gechorus paused to cheer for the deff dread's arrival; this was all the time Gechorus needed to reload.

As soon as he was able, he got the barrels spinning and quickly shot down the orks in front of him. He then moved to get a clear shot of the walker.

Kato, moved round to the side of the deffdread and used the sheer strength of his power fist to krush the exposed mechanical components of the walker's legs. But the walker, even though crippled, was not without its arms. A great klaw from the deff dread snatched Kato from the ground and held him in the air. Kato was gripped by his waist and he flailed his power fist around, in the hope of hitting something but as he was being held from the right he didn't have the flexibility to reach the arm's workings to disable it. The deff dread tightened its grip around Kato's waist and with a horrible crack, there was a huge spray of blood, and Kato's legs dropped away. His struggles slowed and his torso flopped forwards and fell to the floor.

Gechorus now had a clear shot to the dread's 'face' he quickly took aim and unleashed a salvo of high velocity rounds at the eye of the walker. It seemed to work, the machine's arms dropped and the whole hull of the vehicle began to keel forwards and eventually toppled. The driver within must have been hit. This distracted the rest of the orks long enough for the four space marines to make big sweeps with their automatic weapons. The sudden loss of their walker, then the salvo of shots from the marines must have spooked them. They ran; they left through whatever doors they could get to, the marines took a few of the fleeing orks out as the last of them left the area.

"Well done, gentlemen," said Pantaleon over the vox as they regrouped in the centre of the room. "Orks only run when they think there is no hope in fighting; they must be running out of bodies."

The floor was covered in dead greenskins, but amongst all the green flesh and crude weaponry, there was two specs of silver. The upper and lower half of brother Kato lay where they fell, a gruesome death for a mighty hero of the imperium.

Pantaleon started talking into his long range vox, "The manufactorum is secure," he said, "the remaining orks have scattered, it's a clean-up operation now, the guardsmen can take over."

As Pantaleon listened to a response, Gechorus had his eyes fixed on his fallen brother. Such a majestic creation, lying face down in two halves; this was a brother, one of Gechorus' closest, they had been through everything together, they were even in the same scout unit, all those hundreds of years ago.

"And send an apothecary to our location, one our own has fallen," concluded Pantaleon. He spotted Gechorus staring at the body of his fallen brother and went over to him. "You are not grieving, brother Gechorus?" probed Pantaleon.

"No, Sergeant," he replied, to show no sign of weakness. "Do you think the orks will be back?"

"Our company and the system's Militarum are attacking all the ork strongholds in the area at the same time," explained the sergeant. "They will have no reinforcements to send." Pantaleon turned to the other two in the squad crushing an ork body under foot when he did so, "Remus, Loukios, check around the manufactorum for any orks remaining in the building."

* * *

><p>The army had arrived and was pulling away all the ork bodies to be burned outside the manufactorum. The orks must be burned, or their spores can spread and grow into more orks. Kato's body was placed in a respectable position as they waited for the apothecary. According to vox chatter the orks had been a very worthy enemy and the apothecaries were busy with wounded marines. The wounded always took precedence over the dead.<p>

"I will never get used to their stench," said Brother Loukios to Gechorus.

"I have come to welcome the smell of burning green flesh," he replied.

Loukios sighed "you think…"

_Hard work exercises the body and focusses the mind; it is a noble and worthy thing._

Looking around, Loukios tried to find the source of the voice, "What was that?"

"It is the Adeptus Mechanicus' motivational broadcasts," said Gechorus, "I have not heard one for many years."

"I have never heard it before."

"Then you have never seen a functioning manufactorum."

_Lasgun production of this facility is down ninety percent, please rectify. Work hard to bring honour and glory to the Machine God._

"You would think good citizens would not need to be reminded to 'work hard'," sneered Loukios.

Gechorus turned to face Loukios, "You do not know humans; they are lazy, feeble and weak minded. They need all the encouragement they can get. It's also why they need us."

"Strange that they started the announcements this early," said Loukios, "the workers are not back yet, the army is still clearing up."

_Praise be to the Emperor. All you do, you do in his name._

"These soldiers are doing Emperor's work as well; are they not?"


	3. Chapter 3

The four space marine terminators left in the Stormraven that the Apothecary arrived in. They went to an outpost not far outside Hive city Liselli. Liselli was the focal point of the ork invasion, and a lot of the system defence forces and the space marines had gathered at the surrounding outposts for a move to take back the city.

The outpost was military camp, made in one of the small towns outside the city. A few Silver griffons were gathered there, along with a platoon of guardsmen.

Gechorus had his helmet off and was sitting on the ground, with an eye on the great spire of the hive city; trying to work out where the ork warboss would be hiding, and wondering to himself what kind of warboss would be capable of commanding this many orks. Surely the head of this mighty ork would be a worthy trophy for the Silver Griffons.

He heard a voice behind him, "Hello, Gechorus, can we speak?" it was the writer.

Gechorus couldn't see her as his armour did not allow him to look around. "You are not accustomed to the formalities that are expected of you, when meeting an Astartes, Xilthara," he commented.

"What should I say?"

"It is customary to address a Space Marine as 'my lord'" he explained.

"I'm sorry, my lord," she said, "Would it be ok if we spoke together?"

"We may," said Gechorus. Xilthara moved round and sat in front of him so they could speak face to face. She was wearing a black coat to protect herself from the cold. Gechorus felt the cold on his face; it was a welcome release from the full face helmet he had been wearing in the fighting.

"I see your pristine armour didn't last long," she said with a smile. Gechorus glared at her for this unappreciated comment and her smile quickly faded. "How was your mission? Did it go well?"

Gechorus spoke straight, "We cleared the manufactorum, and the Militarum swept the area clean of the remaining orks."

"I heard that it was not all without loss." She commented.

Gechorus looked away from Xilthara, "Brother Kato fell in battle."

Xilthara chose her next words carefully; this could be the most emotion she could get from a Silver Griffon. "I'm sorry to hear that."

Gechorus looked directly back at her, "Don't be, he died in service to the Emperor," said Gechorus with pride, "What greater cause is there?"

"You must feel something," urged Xilthara, "for the loss of a brother I mean."

"He will be missed," said Gechorus, "He was a great fighter."

Xilthara paused a moment to think, "Tell me about something you did together, a memory you have with him."

"Like what?"

"You've been battle brothers for a long time, I don't know," she thought for a moment more. "Tell me about a mission you had together."

Gechorus thought about it briefly, what was good mission he had with Kato? The people of the imperium love to hear about the heroic exploits of the space marines after all. "OK then," he began. Xilthara lit up; and readied her pen for the story.

"We were investigating a space hulk…" he paused, "do you know what a space hulk is?"

"Of course," she said as if patronised, "I've done my research."

He continued his story, "Now this place was infested with gene stealers, far more than usual. We advanced inside this thing for at least ten minutes before we detected anything. We were so far in when part of the structure collapsed and split up our squad, with Kato and me on one side and the rest of the squad on the other; and of course, this is when the gene stealers attacked…"

There wasn't much to this story and Gechorus knew it, but he kept telling it to the end and Xilthara stayed interested, or at least pretended to stay interested all the way through. The story ended with Gechorus and Kato taking the long way back through the space hulk and killing hundreds of gene stealers along the way.

"…and we made it back to our ship." He said as he concluded.

"OK," she said, while pondering what to say next.

Gechorus didn't want to wait for her to say something about his story so he broke the silence "you can spice up the story if you want to retell it in your documentation."

"No, no, it's not that," she said, pondering a bit more. "Can you tell me why you chose to tell me that story?"

Gechorus looked back up at the top of the hive city, imagining the great conquests he would have enjoyed with Kato. "I think…" he inhaled and considered his answer carefully, "…I told you because it was the time when I felt our lives were most in danger; it was also the time where I felt that if I had been with any one of my other squad mates that day, the outcome may not have been the same."

Xilthara's eyes lit up, "Now that is what I'm looking for." She stood up and said, "I've got to go for a moment, I'll be back soon."

Gechorus nodded as if he was giving permission and she left him.

Be bowed his head with the intention of pre-battle meditation, but he was distracted. Xilthara had left her book on the ground behind her; Gechorus had to have a look inside, he had to read what she had written about the chapter, about the campaign, and about him. He picked it up and peered inside he could see that she wrote quickly, but each stroke of the pen had been done with the lightest and most precise of strokes creating graceful loops and swirls. He began reading.

_The Space Marines are not exactly the most accommodating of hosts, it has taken me months to get this kind of access and I have been greeted by nothing but coldness and hostility. I can see I'm not welcome here; no space marine that I have approached wanted to talk to me. Maybe they think I'm part of the inquisition; well if that's true there must be something to hide, because they don't want to share anything._

_They have given me my own quarters; I've been told that it's the same type of accommodation a Space Marine can expect. There is no window and the bed is rock hard; I should be grateful though. No one else on this ship who isn't a space marine has this much room to themselves._

Gechorus flicked through the pages until he found the part about himself.

_After days on the ship without getting a word in with any of the marines, finally I found one who will talk to me; and he's a terminator of all things, so it looks like I've got a veteran to talk to. His name is Gechorus and if I'm honest, he's quite handsome. He has no facial scarring or visible cybernetics, so he makes quite a nice "poster boy" for the chapter. Maybe it sounds silly, but I have always thought that a handsome space marine is such a waste; these handsome men are taken out of society and become nothing more than killing machines. The marines are abnormally big, even under their armour. Gechorus' muscles were bulging through his clothes, but it's more scary and intimidating than sexy._

_The way Gechorus speaks, it's strange I feel almost like everything he says is a line that has been drilled into his head from an old book written by Guilliman himself. It's all so formal and ordered. I get the impression that there is no room for a space marine to think for himself; maybe the humanity they fight for has left their minds as well as their bodies; so in a way I feel sorry for them. Maybe if I slowly build my relationship with Gechorus, he will open up to me, surely there is a soft side to…_

Gechorus looked around and caught a glance of Xilthara on her way back, he quickly closed the book, and set it on the floor where she left it. She sat next to the hulking space marine so they could share the view of Liselli.

"What does a Space Marine think of when he looks at a hive city?" she asked him.

"I am trying to work out where the Warboss might be hiding, and where he would have set up defences," he explained, "but it's pointless to think about it. Orks have no patterns and they do not develop tactics through logic. They can be an impossible force to outmanoeuvre, as they are totally unpredictable."

"Do you only think about fighting?" she asked, "Don't you think about the people who you are going in there to save?"

Gechorus looked ahead, at the giant city, at all the many spires that made up the great man-made mountain. In truth he had not spared much thought for the imperial citizens, the good, loyal subjects of Emperor and the whole reason he was fighting the orks.

A familiar voice called, "Gechorus, you are needed for the mission briefing," it was Brother Loukios, it was time to head out again.

Gechorus did not say 'good bye' to Xilthara as he stood up, as such pleasantries only needed to be implied by the Space Marines.

"Good luck," she called out to him.

He turned back to face her, "There is no luck," he slid his helmet on over his head, "there is only the will of the Emperor."

* * *

><p>"Nice of you to join us, Gechorus," said Company Captain Casidus with a smile. He had no helmet and stood with the general of the local militarum in front of maps of the Liselli and the surrounding land. Gechorus joined his squad brothers, Loukios, Remus and Pantaleon in hearing about the upcoming operation.<p>

"The orks are swarming all over the city and we need to take it from all angles to make sure they cannot focus their defence," explained the captain. "We will use rhinos and tactical drop pods to surround the city and make sure that they have nowhere to escape from."

The militarum general cut in, "The army will provide support and will follow the space marines into the breaches."

"Where will we be inserted?" asked Pantaleon, glancing at a map of the city.

"You will be taken by Land Raider to an entrance of the underhive," explained Casidus.

"To enter the city from below?" asked Loukios.

"No, we have reason to believe that the orks are holding a noble captive in the underhive, here," he pointed to a location on one of the maps, "you will need to go in there and get him out."

"A rescue mission?" asked Remus, almost insulted by the idea.

"Yes," commented Casidus, "it is the governor of Liselli. It is vital that you get him back here and out of ork hands."

"How do we know he is alive?" asked Remus.

"He's too valuable to kill," commented the militarum general, "even orks would know that."

"You over estimate their intelligence," sneered Remus.

"You will be driven to the underhive after the main attack has started, this will minimise ork resistance down below," explained the captain, "most of them are sure to move up and join the fight in the main city."

"And if the governor is dead?" asked Sergeant Pantaleon.

"Then retrieve his body," ordered the captain, "You have your mission, now go forth with the Emperor's guidance. We will brief you further on the governor's possible location when you are in the Land Raider."

The four of them turned to leave the briefing, but Gechorus turned back to ask, "Do we know the location of the Warboss?"

"No," said the General, "but we can safely assume that he is somewhere near the top."


	4. Chapter 4

They had their mission; there was no chance for glory in rescuing the governor. All they would receive was the gratification of an old man, and that is assuming he was alive. This was a waste of their abilities; they all knew it, but none of them said anything. The true honours would go the squad that slayed the mighty warboss.

They worked out why they had been chosen for this task, their squad was below full effectiveness with Kato dead so they may be compromised if placed in the middle of the battle for the city; Squad Pantaleon was also adept at navigating through dark, enclosed labyrinths; the similarities between under hives and space hulks were startling.

The underhive was the part of the city the imperium would like to forget existed, but there is an under hive to every city. Filled with the lowest orders of human society; underhives are almost without exception infected with disease, crime and much, much worse. Gechorus, in all his long years had never had the misfortune of being in the under hive of a city before. He had no doubt the sight of four of the Emperor's finest would be sources of bewilderment and wonder to the denizens of the dark tunnels.

Walking through, it was hard not to notice the extreme levels of poverty and hardship that these imperial citizens had to endure. There was no sunlight, just the dark, murky glow from lamps that only lit up the surrounding smog and did little to illuminate the way ahead. Gechorus had been in space hulks that were more inviting than this place. There were no signs of the orks, no ork desecration; the foul air did not carry the stench of the greenskins. There were not even any signs of conflict. Occasionally a person would peer its head from behind a ramshackle corner to catch a glimpse of the mighty space marines, just to disappear again when the marines turned to look. Their presence was a reminder to Gechorus that there were people living in this place. It was small comfort to him that the life expectancy here was no doubt so low that none of these people would have to endure these conditions for what would be considered a full lifetime.

An old speaker system somewhere was crackled into life, and the warboss had got his hands on it. "Space Marines!" the voice was barely decipherable, the awful quality of the speakers coupled with the probable fact that the ork was far too close to the microphone he was yelling into. "Get out of my city! I'm Boss Kozgor and this city is MINE! WAAAAGH!"

"That will help our brothers zone in on the warboss' location," said Pantaleon.

"I hate hearing the Orks speak," grumbled Loukios.

"Why?" asked Brother Remus.

Loukios sighed into his answer, "Because the Astra Militarum is defeated by these monsters; it would not be as shameful if they showed intelligence."

"Be mindful of your words, Brother Loukios," warned Gechorus, "There are imperial citizens within earshot."

Loukios supressed his urge to speak out, mindful that it was his duty to protect the imperium in all ways; that included his duty to protect the people's confidence in the imperium.

They approached a junction in the pathways. There were four different ways to go, and no indication which one might be the correct one.

"A fork in the road," commented Loukios, "Where shall we go?"

"This is a waste of time," grunted Remus, "We should split up, find the body and get this over with."

"No," argued Pantaleon, "We cannot be separated again."

"How are we going to find the governor, then?" asked Loukios.

"Citizens of the Holy Emperor," addressed Pantaleon to whoever may be in earshot, "We are here to kill the vile ork invaders. Please indicate to us where they may be."

They waited. It took a few minutes before one of the locals had enough courage to come out and approach them. The local that did was a tatty skinny little man, he didn't get close and stayed in the shadows, but it could be seen that he was barefoot and wrapped in grey rags. He had most of his face covered up, as the air was foul and no doubt poisonous.

"We saw the orks," he said bluntly, his voice barely big enough to be heard past his face coverings; he pointed down the left hand pathway. "They went that way."

"Why are there no signs of fighting?" asked Pantaleon.

The small man simply said, "There were not many of them, and it is easy to hide from orks; especially if they aren't looking for you."

Pantaleon took a more aggressive tone, "You should have fought!" he told him.

"With what?" asked the man; stunned that that could even be considered. "A few of us have lasguns, but what if that doesn't stop them. They could have killed us all."

"Serving the Emperor in death is a noble reward in itself," stated Pantaleon.

"There are children here," explained the man, looking at the ground. "The orks that came through here went that way; four of them. They had an important looking prisoner with them."

Pantaleon went in the direction the man was pointing, the three other space marines followed.

Gechorus caught the sound of the man murmur something under his breath, he was sure it was "don't come back," but he didn't tell the sergeant, he thought it best not to react to it at all.

"Why would orks take prisoners?" asked Loukios. "I have never seen them do that before."

"Neither have I," said Gechorus, "but I have heard of it, rare as it may be."

"You must never forget that orks are unpredictable by nature," explained Pantaleon, "every ork mob is different. They probably caught the prisoner to tell them how to reach a stockpile of fuel or ammunition, or how to use the great planetary defence guns."

* * *

><p>They continued down the alleyway until they started hearing the orks with their own ears; locating them after that was a very simple task.<p>

Loukios was the one to look around the right corner first. Upon seeing them, he simply shouted "Orks!" The other Marines immediately looked round to his location, Loukios shot about ten rounds into the first one before the three that were left were upon him. These big orks were 'nobs'; bigger than regular orks and suitably armed. They swung massive and crude clubbing and chopping weapons into Loukios that sent him stumbling back against a wall. This gave Remus and Gechorus the room they needed for a clear shot at two of the nobs. Loukios levered the last nob towards himself by grabbing hold of its own melee weapon, and forcing it into a headlock. The thick ork skull did not last long in the grip of the terminator's power fist, and soon enough it burst with a satisfying crunch.

There was a little yelp of shock from where the orks had been. Sitting on a chair was a richly dressed man with white hair, a beard and ork brain matter splattered across his face. This must be the man that they were there to save. "Thank the Emperor you came!" exclaimed the old man, "They would have killed me for sure."

"You must be the governor of Liselli," asked Pantaleon, "why were the orks keeping you?"

The man was tied onto the chair by the arms, he paused a moment before answering, maybe a bit surprised that the greeting was so cold. "I am the city governer, my name is Solemis Tarvos," he explained, "They wanted to know how to access the planetary defence guns."

"Good guess, Sergeant," commented Remus.

"I didn't tell them anything!" added the old man quickly. The sergeant walked over to the chair and cut the old man from his crude bonds, Tarvos wiped the ork blood from his face as soon as he was able, he then stood up to join Pantaleon's side. The three other space marines kept a look out encase of any other orks who may be alerted to the rescue. "And what are the names of my saviours?"

Pantaleon said simply "We are Squad Pantaleon, of the Silver Griffons."

"Why are you unharmed?" asked Pantaleon. "I would have imagined the orks to torture their prisoners to get information."

"I outsmarted them; they told me that they would cut my arm off if I didn't help them," he explained, "So I told them that I needed my arms to type in the code. They spent the rest of the time arguing over what else they should threaten me with. They didn't have me here long before you interrupted them."

"Area clear," stated Remus.

"What is the quickest way out of the underhive, Tarvos?" asked Pantaleon; expecting the governer to know his city better than the visiting marine.

"I think the nearest exit is that way," said Tarvos, pointing the way the marines came from.

"Then that is where we go."

The marines turned to leave the area, keeping the old man within their ranks. The marines walked slower than they would normally as was courtesy when walking with humans, but Tarvos still had to walk fast to keep up with their gigantic strides.

* * *

><p>They were passing through the slums where the marines had received directions. A small child ran out towards the five who were passing through, this child was dressed the same way as the man they met earlier, wrapped in rags and bare foot. The child ran towards Loukios and wrapped her arms around one of his legs. Loukios stopped in his tracks, as did the other marines, he looked around at his brothers as if looking for advice, but the most he got as a response was a shrug from Remus.<p>

"You've killed the monsters," said the child with its face rubbing on the shin guard of the hulking terminator, "You're our heroes!"

"Get off me, child," said Loukios, he was impatient to get the child off his leg, but he dare not move, encase his great strength hurt the child.

Solemis Tarvos, quickly intervened, he kneeled down to eye level with the child and said, "These Space Marines are here to kill all the green monsters. The Emperor sent them, and they are going to rescue all of us."

A young woman came from the darkness to pull the child away. "Bitucia," called the woman as she grabbed the child's arm. She was small in stature and once again, covered in rags, all except for her arms and her feet. The child went with her but kept her gaze on the marines.

"Woman, halt!" ordered Pantaleon. She stopped in her tracks, obeying the order from the marine without question; she turned, revealing the fear in her eyes. Pantaleon fixed his storm bolter to his waist as he walked over to the woman; he grabbed her arm and inspected it. Etched onto the pale flesh was a circle with arrows pointing in eight directions. "Heresy," he whispered. The woman struggled but could not get away, her feet slid on the hard ground and her free arm had now let go of the child and was flailing around trying to grab onto something to help herself escape. Pantaleon grabbed her head, and she stopped moving. He ripped the cloth away from her face, to reveal another tattoo on her forehead, another chaos star. With one swift, easy movement, he twisted the woman's head and killed her.

"Heresy breeds heresy!" declared Pantaleon, "Where there is one, there are more." He pulled his gun from his side and aimed it at the now distraught child who was kneeling over the dead woman, "Intolerance is the only appropriate action." He pulled the trigger and after a bloody explosion, the remains of the child fell to the floor.

Solemis Tarvos screamed "No!" to stop the execution, but there was nothing that could be done. The Emperor's judgement had been dealt. "What are you doing?" he shouted. "Why did you kill the little girl?"

"One seed of doubt can lead to a world of heresy," stated Pantaleon. "Do you doubt the chosen of the Emperor?"

Tarvos did not dare to answer.

"Every resident here is potentially a slave to the ruinous powers of the warp," declared Pantaleon to his squad, "Kill them all."

* * *

><p>The four marines left the underhive with empty magazines. Tarvos followed from a distance. They did not speak to each other, it was not normal to chat, but this time the silence seemed to be more appropriate.<p>

The land raider dropped the five of them off some distance away from the outpost so it could return to the fighting as soon as possible.

"Hurry up, Tarvos!" called Pataleon, "We are nearly at the camp."

"I'm coming, _Space Marine_," he replied coldly, he was a long way behind and clearly did not want to be with the marines.

At the camp, the local guardsmen who had been on guard welcomed them, one of them even recognised Solemis Tarvos, greeting him with a salute, Tarvos only returned a nod.

Tarvos was told to sit down at one of the guards' tables; he did so, with no protest. The terminators were the first marines back at the camp, so Pantaleon got in contact with the rest of the company over vox to see if it would be worth going back to the city to re-join the fighting.

"We have returned to the camp with a VIP," said Pantaleon, "Should we return to help out with the rest of the Orks?" He waited for a response, "Understood."

Cutting the vox communications, he turned to tell his men the news, "The warboss has been killed." The three other terminators all felt the same at this point, they all wanted to be there to deal the final blow to the ork leader or at least witness it; but it was not to be. "The orks are on the run; the Militarum and the Silver Griffons are cleansing the area of the remaining forces."

"Who killed the warboss?" asked Loukios.

"Squad Myrsinus," said Sergeant, "It was a lascannon that killed him."

Loukios nodded in recognition of this mighty deed, and there was silence once again.

"Don't you think the soldiers here would want to know that the warboss has been killed?" asked Tarvos.

"They will be told by their superiors," said Remus.

"You should tell them."

"Why?" sneered Remus.

"Because it's good news," he explained, "The alien threat has been destroyed. Good news would be a relief for the men."

Remus glanced over at the sergeant who gave him the order: "Go and spread the news."

Remus nodded in understanding then left the group.

"Transport will arrive soon," said Pantaleon to the two other space marines, "we will get back to the ship and the Inquisition will be notified of what we have seen here."

"The Inquisition?" exclaimed Tarvos. "Why?"

Pantaleon turned to the old man, "You know why."

"Because of the heretics?" he asked, aghast. "It's just a few harmless cults, it keeps the people happy and the city is peaceful…"

"Those cults you speak of are the followers of chaos," said Loukios, "you cannot say that they are harmless."

"The Inquisition will destroy us," argued Tarvos, he sounded shaky and frail; he could barely keep up the strength to argue for his own survival. Gechorus had kept a watch on the old man throughout the conversation, trying to get a gage on his emotions and feelings towards the heretics. Judging people's emotions was not something he was very good at but even a stone cold space marine could tell that this man was scared. "And what about you," said the man directly to Gechorus, "do you want to call the inquisition here to destroy us all?"

Gechorus looked over at his sergeant nothing was said between them, Gechorus knew his place, and he knew his duty. "I stand with the judgement of my brothers and the servants of the emperor."

"Then it is already over," said the old man, he turned and gazed up at Liselli's tallest spires, "You have saved us from the orks; you have fought and died with us; only to sentence us to death."


	5. Chapter 5

The space marines were back on the ship, the main ork threat had been dealt with, the Astra Militarum could handle whatever was left. The Silver Griffons Third Company was now on its way to its next mission: a phychic distress call from another space marine ship.

Gechorus was once again caring for his armour. The ork blood was sticky and the scratches from the guns were many, much devotion was needed to bring this holy armour back to the glorious appearance it once had. Alas as much as he worked and toiled, his thoughts came back to the words of Solemis Tarvos, as strong as his devotion to the Emperor and the imperium was, he could not deny the truth of what he had said. Had the space marines come all this way and done so much of the Emperor's work; only to leave as greater enemies to the people than the orks? "It cannot be so," he murmured under his breath. It was not his place to pass judgement on the fate of a planet, it was not up to him to call upon the inquisition; but he could not help but feel that calling on the inquisition would not be the right action to take. An old inquisitors' saying kept spinning round in his mind, "some question out right to kill a planet's population, they should ask, 'what right do we have to let them live.'"

A knocking was heard at his door, 'It must be the writer,' he thought. He got up to open the door and indeed, there she was, standing there with her book, ready for more 'insight'. Gechorus moved aside to let her pass into the room.

"Good day, my lord," she said with a smile. She sat on the bed and waited for Gechorus to sit beside her, "… if it is day time, it's hard to tell on a space ship."

He did not reply to her, he just sat down on the bed and waited for her to start delving into his mind.

"So how did it go down there?" asked Xilthara.

"We rescued the governor and returned him safely from a hostile environment."

"Is that all?" she asked, eyebrow raised.

"It is all I wish to share."

"What was it like in the underhive?"

Gechorus took a deep breath, "It is a vile place; the air is toxic, there is no sunlight and the inhabitants are…" he paused.

"The inhabitants are what?" she probed.

"I would prefer not to say."

"What's wrong?" she asked, "Did you lose another brother?"

He shook his head, "It was not our proudest moment."

"But you saved everyone," she argued.

Gechorus stared at the floor, his mind swimming with conflicting thoughts and emotions.

"I think you need to talk about it," advised Xilthara. She closed the book and set it beside her, and shuffled over to get closer to the marine, "Look, I won't even write it down. It's off the record, you can tell me anything."

Gechorus took a deep breath, she was right, he couldn't play quiet all the time and he needed to let loose his emotions before they got the better of him. "I lost a brother today," he said, "and now the planet's fate lies with the Inquisition."

"What does the Inquisition want with…"

"There were heretics in the underhive," explained the space marine. "I do not know exactly what an inquisitor's judgement would be, but extreme action may be taken, especially if the heresy has spread to other cities. If the entire planet is corrupt, then exterminatus might be the action they would take."

"Exterminatus?" exclaimed Xilthara, "for some heretics in the slums?"

"The inquisition is cruel, Xilthara," sighed the marine. His emotions were getting the better of him, he was on the verge of saying things that he shouldn't, it was better to mull these issues though in silent solitude. "I am very sorry, but I need to be alone."

* * *

><p>Xilthara left Gechorus, but he found that as much as he tried, he could not get absorbed in the care of his armour. He worked but the mind was distracted, his thoughts kept coming back to what Tarvos said, the people he killed and the people that were going to die when the Inquisition passed its judgement. Sergeant Pantaleon often used sword practice to calm the mind and meditate; perhaps he should try it himself.<p>

Gechorus entered the training room; Pantaleon was going through sword drills on his own, with only the eyes of a waiting servitor watching his movements. Pantaleon was a master of the blade and was nearly unbeatable; the sergeant moved through different stances and performed neatly choreographed attacks at an imaginary enemy changing swiftly between forms to improve balance and control.

"Gechorus!" exclaimed the sergeant, "It is always a welcome sight to see a brother in the training room. Will you join me in training with the sword?"

The servitor trundled over to Gechorus, presenting a second training sword. He nodded in acceptance to Pantaleon and took it from the servitor. It was as big and as heavy as a power sword, but it was a simple thing, there was no power source and the edge was not battle-sharp; but it was still as immaculately decorated with insignias and words of wisdom as any weapon made for the Astartes.

For hours they went through form training, then they duelled, and in forty rounds of fighting, Pantaleon was the victor in all.

"You are off your game today," said Pantaleon, when they sat down to rest.

"You have always been the better swordsman," admitted Gechorus.

"Perhaps," said Pantaleon, "But your skills with a blade are not normally so easy to overcome. If I was to guess, I would say that you were distracted."

Gechorus sighed, what he was about to admit could lead to great ramifications, if Pantaleon was not in an understanding mood. "My mind has been wondering in dark places," Gechorus explained.

"I see, what is the nature of these dark places?"

"My thoughts keep falling back to the underhive."

"The heretics?"

"Yes."

"You must then be thinking of the great glory of the Emperor we shined upon them," suggested Pantaleon.

Gechorus said nothing.

"You cannot just sit in silence; the Emperor's glory was shown to those heretics in its purest form."

Gechorus still said nothing

"Surely you saw it," continued Pantaleon, "because if I remember rightly, you were killing heretics right beside me."

Gechorus did not give a response.

"But I noticed something, in the middle of all the noise and bloodshed of the emperor's work, you were wasting multiple rounds into the same target, and you were missing entirely at times. I was surprised at your lack of precision and efficiency. It didn't take long until I realised the problem."

Gechorus glanced over at the waiting servitor, expressionless and thoughtless; there may have been some listening device active on it.

"Ignore the servitor," said Pantaleon, reading his concerns, "it is not recording," he assured. "You doubted our cause, our right to kill those people." Pantaleon could see that Gechorus accepted the accusation; the lack of an argument or retaliation confirmed that the sergeant was correct. "The reason I did not mention it until now was that I had doubts of my own as well."

Gechorus perked up and listened intently. He had never known the sergeant to show weakness, or to admit doubt.

"We have done the Emperor's work for hundreds of years, you and I," explained Pantaleon, "and what mark have we left on the galaxy other than bloodshed?"

"Some say we give hope to the people we fight for," said Gechorus.

"Do you think we gave those people hope?" asked Pataleon, "The ones in the under hive. They are terrified of us now, those who are left."

"The Codex Astartes says to destroy chaos," explained Gechorus, he slowly thought about what he what he had just said. The codex Astartes was very clear but for the first time, the situation was not clear in his mind, "but we did not have to kill them."

"It is heresy to say such things, Gechorus," commented Pantaleon with a raised eyebrow.

"Our mission was to kill the orks," explained Gechorus "and we succeeded. We did not need to tell the inquisition."

"But it is our eternal mission to destroy the dark forces of the galaxy," explained Pantaleon, "I'm amazed you would forget that. It was the Emperor's will that we killed those people. All of them, every man, every woman..."

"…every child."

"Yes," sighed Pantaleon, "the Emperor is cruel; those who manage to survive our 'intervention' are forced to join his vast armies or are worked to death in his factories; the people are better off without his 'protection.'" He paused; perhaps Pantaleon was trying to gage the emotions of his brother, "I did not call on the inquisition. The only people who know about the heretics in the under hive are the four of us."

Gechorus couldn't put it all the different thoughts and ideas together; still trying to formulate his own opinion. Pantaleon began to put more ideas into his mind. "What does it matter anyway? We are a higher species than them, we are Astartes, they should be working, fighting and dying for our cause; but no, under the rule of the Emperor, we work, fight and die for them. I have outgrown my bonds of servitude to the Emperor and petty humanity and I do not want to live by this backwards regime anymore."

Gechorus shifted back on his seat and looked the sergeant in the eye, "You are suggesting betrayal!"

"Our cause is not as righteous as our leaders would have us believe," the sergeant continued to explain; "they have been betraying humanity and astartes for an age. We need to turn our back on this chapter"

"I will not betray my brothers," stated Gechorus.

"I do not want to either, but should the opportunity arise that we can relinquish our bonds to the Imperium, we should take it."

Gechorus rested his head heavily in his hands. All this talk of betrayal was unsettling, he needed time to think. He wanted to stand by his sergeant but, "This is the path to chaos, Sergeant."

"It is only the path to chaos if you surrender yourself to it."

"And what if the only way out of the Imperium is through chaos, would you surrender yourself to it?" Gechorus asked.

"I think that when the time comes, we will both know what is right," assured Pantaleon.

Gechorus got up to leave.

"Remus and Loukios are of the same mind as myself," commented Pantaleon, "when we are to abandon our chapter, they will join us."

Gechorus turned back to his brother before he went through the exit, "I must ask sergeant, how long has your charade of the loyal space marine been going on? How long has all your talk of devotion to the emperor been an act?"

"Longer than I have been a terminator."

* * *

><p>Gechorus returned to his cabin, but did not distract his mind with the work of preparing his armour, he was already distracted. Was this heresy? Unquestionably. Would it be a betrayal to his chapter? Certainly. But the more he thought, the more he considered his sergeant's opinion , the more his own opinion formed.<p>

Xilthara had entered Gechorus' room and was again ready to prise answers from the marine.

"Let me tell you something I heard," said Gechorus to Xilthara. She was sitting on the bed and leaned in closer to the marine, as she always did, "There was a vision and all psykers at the time saw it. The vision was that of the Emperor on the golden throne."

"But seeing visions of the Emperor can't be a rare thing for a psyker," commented Xilthara.

"In the visions, the emperor shed tears, and all that had the vision said the same about it; 'he weeps not for himself, but for mankind.'"

She looked up at him, away from her writing, wondering why he would bring up that event.

Concern grew for himself in his head, he knew he should not be thinking such things, Xilthara looked back at him in understanding and he knew she could be trusted, he knew that she would not write anything that would spell doom for either of them. "Do you think mankind has lost its way?"

"I don't know, I have not seen as much as you have," she replied.

"I am talking about the people in command of the Imperium. Some people think the vision is an indication of the heresy throughout the imperium and how it is hurting the Emperor to know about it. But I'm not so sure about that any more. I think he weeps for the people because of how misguided the leaders of humanity have become."

"I don't understand," said Xilthara, "I trust the Administratum."

"I do not," sighed Gechorus, "not after what I've seen, not after what I've been ordered to do."

"What have you been ordered to do?" she inquired.

"It is our duty to clense the Imperium of any chaos threat we come across, to leave it undisturbed would be a transgression. In our last mission we found cultists in the underhive, and we killed them all." Gechorus paused, staring at the ground he found it impossible to look Xilthara in the eye, "even the children."

"You killed children?" she asked, stunned, "Why would you do that?"

"Because it is what the Emperor would have commanded," he explained. "If the Emperor is truly great and good, then the High Lords of Terra are not, and I do not want to fight for them anymore."

"This is really big," commented Xilthara, "I can't write this down, you know."

Worry was etched across his face, "I should not be having these thoughts."

"The Silver Griffons are human after all," said Xilthara as she moved closer to him. "I think you need something to take your mind of things."

He looked at her, 'what could she possibly have to take my mind off things?' he thought.

"I know people who can give anyone a good time."

"What are you talking about?" he asked.

She grabbed the collar of her shirt and pulled it to reveal her shoulder. A tattoo, it was unmistakable to Gechorus as a mark of Slaanesh, one of the Chaos gods.

"No," said Gechorus, "it can't be you…"

"What do you mean," said Xilthara, "it's just a bit of fun."

"Do you know nothing of Chaos?" he asked, standing up and distancing himself from her.

"Chaos?" asked Xilthara, "it's just a harmless pleasure cult."

"But it isn't harmless, is it," said Gechorus through gritted teeth, "why you?" a tear began to trickle from his eye. "Why did it have to be you?"

"I don't understand; what have I done?" she asked, allowing her tattoo to be covered again.

"Nothing," sighed Gechorus, "You have done nothing."

* * *

><p>Gechorus stood in the observation dome, looking out upon the warp, all the colours and all the swirling shapes seemed to writhe for eternity. Without the ship's psykic barriers it would surely be sucked into the madness beyond.<p>

He thought about Xilthara, she had been there, before the mission in the underhive. She had released much of his mind from the tight constraints that he had been forced to live by; and in doing so, perhaps unintentionally opening up his thoughts and emotions to new ideas and new ways of thinking. Maybe the fact that is only look a few questions to bring these doubts to the forefront of Gechorus' mind showed that he was already on the path to heresy.

A figure came to stand beside him; Gechorus could feel the weight in the floor, unmistakeably the mass of an astartes.

"I don't see you here often, brother Gechorus," commented the marine.

"Myrsinus," greeted Gechorus, "I haven't had a chance to congratulate you on your slaying of the warboss."

"It was a trifling matter; he left cover and walked straight into our sight line," commented Myrsinus, "The larger Orks are tough, but not much can stand up to lascannon fire." They looked on, into the warp, Gechorus careful not to let its swirling insanity enrapture them in its beauty. "Have you ever stared into it?" asked Myrsinus, "you can see things, you can see the forms of the warp, all you need to do is stare past the swirls of colour and it is revealed."

"I have not," said Gechorus; he looked on, he stared, he tried to see past the colours of the warp, but nothing was being revealed to him. "Surely it is the realm of psyckers to make sense of the warp, I am not so blessed."

"…or cursed," finished Myrsinus.

"That depends on your point of view."

"You do not need psychic powers to be able to see what is presented to us in this way; only a soulless blank would not be able to see into the warp when it is presented to us." Gechorus looked round at Myrsinus, curious about what explanation he would give. "All you need to do is give yourself to it; do not fight it with your mind, let it in, and it will reveal its wonders to you…"

Gechorus looked ever deeper, but he could not see anything that could be considered a form, "What is it like?"

"Incredible," said Myrsinus, "and impossible." Myrsinus stared on into the void. "I cannot describe it."

More time passed, Myrsinus and Gechorus watched on, into the warp. Gechorus was about to turn and leave Myrsinus alone, but then Myrsinus spoke again, "Sometimes, I think to myself, that the warp holds answers, answers that might be correct."

Gechorus turned to him and said "These are the words of chaos."

"…and you have heard them before," responded Myrsinus, a smile was growing across his face. "Thoughts of chaos are everywhere on this ship, we will break from this chapter and it will be glorious, think of the power we would have, think of the pleasures we will experience."

The good side of chaos was a difficult concept for Gechorus to grasp; thoughts of abandoning the Imperium was one thing; thoughts of joining chaos was quite another. He said nothing.

"I have spoken to the navigator," said Myrsinus while watching the warp once more, "deliverance is not far away."


	6. Chapter 6

Warp travel came to a halt, Gechorus had spent the past eighteen hours alone and locked away in his cabin; he had been meditating on the situation that would inevitably arise and who would be standing by his side when that decision was made.

Almost as soon as the ship had emerged from warp travel an announcement calling for astartes to report for emergency arming was heard. Gechorus obeyed his summoning and left his room with the servitors once they came for him. Half the normal number of workers were on hand to prepare him, and despite this, he was ready in half the time. Such was the emergency, they only had one tech priest administering the rites and blessings of the machine god; doubtless the terminator armour would work just as well.

"…honour the battle gear of the dead," said one of the tech priests as he began to lower the helmet onto Gechorus' head at the end of the arming process.

"I ask only…" the helmet was sealed over his head and it began to filter his breathing, "…to serve." That was the last thing said in the arming process. Gechorus was ready for battle.

* * *

><p>As he moved through the corridors of the ship, heads up display notifications in his helmet were telling him, "Burn the heretic," "Purge the unclean," and "The Emperor Protects." All this talk of heretics and 'unclean' could only mean one thing: Chaos. The fact he was rushed through arming surely meant that there was a space bound chaos force incoming. They were going to be attacked.<p>

"Squad Pantaleon, who is armed?" came the voice of Gechorus' sergeant. "Vox Check!"

"Loukios, Aye!" came the first response from a team member.

"Remus, Aye!" was the second marine in the squad to announce his readiness.

Gechorus waited a few seconds for a reply from Kato who he soon remembered, he would never hear from. "Gechorus, Aye," he said into the vox, completing squad Pantaleon.

"We are under attack by a chaos battlebarge," explained Pantaleon, "and the rushed arming process has left us scattered. We are to rendezvous with the Captain in the Reclusiam. Is that understood?"

"Aye!" the three under his command said together and the vox was closed.

Gechorus now had a destination; he was already moving the right way.

His armour was heavy, but he did not so much wear it as he was implanted into it every time it was applied to him. Every movement he made was made as if the armour weighed nothing. As long has he stayed within its mechanical limitations, he could very easily forget that he had it on at all. But with the rush of marines, people, and servitors all around him, it was hard to forget that it was the scene of a battle.

That was until a deep booming thud was heard from the hull of the Strike Cruiser, the feeling of being in a space battle was disorientating; one would hear and feel nothing until something was fired or the space ship was struck. The support staff had been driven into a frenzied panic of running and stumbling from the effect of laser strikes and explosions reverberating through out the ship.

"My lord!" a small voice, familiar and soft called out to him. He looked around and saw Xilthara standing at the door of what he could only assume was her cabin, "what's going on?"

Gechorus stopped in his tracks, "Xilthara!" he called back, "Come with me! I will keep you safe."

She didn't hesitate or argue; as quickly as she could, she ran to his side.

He moved as fast as his armour could, Xilthara did not have any difficulty in running to keep up. He heard the contrast in the footsteps; the loud mechanical THUD of his terminator armour interspersed with the light tap, tap, tap of her small feet pushing her slight frame along beside him. Among the noise and disorder it was comforting to have a regular rhythm.

"Where are we going?" asked Xilthara.

"The Reclusiam," said Gechorus, "it's a rendezvous for the Space Marines, you will be safe there."

They turned a corner; another long corridor, this one with the exterior wall of the ship on their right, and more cabin and storeroom doors on their left. Gechorus knew his way around most of the ship but he was sure that Xilthara did not, he checked again that she was near, if he failed to keep sight of her now she might get lost, or worse.

"Wait!" she said as she stopped.

He stopped with her "What is it?" he asked.

"Something is scratching at the walls."

Gechorus paused to listen. The unmistakable sound of metal scraping on metal; something was trying to claw its way in from the void. "It's a heldrake," said Gechorus. "A demonic mutation of an ancient fighter craft; they are strong, but not strong enough to claw though the side of a strike cruiser." He smiled to give her reassurance, despite the fact that his face was covered it appeared to give her comfort, but it was probably just his presence that gave her peace of mind. "Come on, we need to get to The Reclusiam, the other marines will be waiting for us."

She didn't move, "Please tell me what's going on."

Gechorus could see fear in her eyes, she moved towards him and placed her hand on his assault cannon, her eyes were fixed on his, she didn't want to move on until she knew what kind of threat the ship was facing.

"It's a chaos attack," explained Gechorus, "It's most likely the forces of the traitor legions."

"Traitor legions?" asked Xilthara, "You mean Space Marines?"

"Yes."

The two of them were shaken by a gigantic crash on the side of the ship. That was no laser, nor was it explosive, something heavy had struck the side of their ship. Xilthara began to ask "What was…"

"Get in that room!" he ordered with his massive power fist pointed at one of the cabin doors, "and close the door behind you!" She didn't hesitate. She ran into the room and shut the door. The seals for the corridor slammed down to seal the area off in case of depressurisation. All the people that were bustling around him were now stuck, there were no other marines in the area and everyone had to ready whatever weapons they had.

Gechorus knew exactly what it was, an assault claw, similar to a drop pod, but for delivering marines into the belly of a ship instead of the centre of a battlefield. Soon the assault claw will have bored through the side of the strike cruiser and the enemy marines would be on top of him. The claw had landed right in front of where Gechorus was standing and there were now many different support staff gathering around the position with various las guns and auto weapons. The wall started glowing with heat. It would not be long until the traitor marines came out of the transport.

In this moment of tension before the explosion of violence that was to unfold, Gechorus thought with clarity about the situation. Perhaps this was the deliverance Myrsinus talked about.

He pressed a button on his assault cannon and the barrels began to rotate and build up speed in anticipation of the bloodshed. "Who here is loyal to the Emperor of mankind?" called out Gechorus triumphantly, raising the moral of the brave people around him.

Every single one of them raised their hand and roared in exaltation of the Emperor. Gechorus brought every one of those hands down again with a loud and bloody volley of rounds from the assault cannon.

'Betrayal, no turning back now,' were the words spinning round in Gechorus' mind. He looked around him at the death he had dealt, they were all service men and women loyal to the emperor, 'they would have died in the attack anyway,' he thought. None of the killed were fellow Astartes, he felt assured that at least he did not betray any battle brothers, but this act still left a vile taste in his mouth.

The wall was glowing and the chaos marines would be through in a matter of seconds. Gechorus dropped to his knees, closed his eyes and waited for the 'enemy' to come.

After only a brief moment, the wall exploded and out of the hole poured a squad of chaos space marines. Gechorus was not watching them but he could hear the unmistakable sound of power armour on the metal floor and the sound of flesh and bone being crushed as they stepped on Gechorus' earlier victims.

One of the chaos marines moved close to Gechorus kneeled next to him and asked softly, "did you do this?"

Gechorus only nodded, no further response was necessary.

"If I was to say, 'The eagle has flown out of sight behind the mountain,'" said the chaos marine, "what would you say?"

He thought briefly about the metaphor and replied with, "The eagle will never fly again."

"If I was to ask, 'How would I experience the joy of pleasures undreamt by mortals?' you would respond with…"

There was no need to think on this, the answer was obvious, "The warp is the source of sensations unknown."

The chaos marine had one more question, "If I was to say, 'Long live the Emperor!' you would say…"

"Death to the false Emperor," the words were weak in his mouth, quiet and reluctant. Despite the heresy he had already exhibited, these words were still very difficult to say.

"Death to the false Emperor?" asked the Marine, needing further confirmation of Gechorus allegiances.

He looked directly at the one giving the questions, the marine was in violet armour and had horns fixed to his helm, "Death to the false Emperor." He repeated louder this time, it was easier to say now, it almost felt good; "Death to the false Emperor."

"Very good," said the Chaos Marine, "Now get to your feet." Gechorus did as he was told, "I am Brutaka, and this is my squad." Brutaka carried a power sword and was clearly designated as the squad leader. His squad was mostly marines with bolters save for two who carried plasma guns. "You realise that your company doesn't have a hope in winning this fight, you may have a strike cruiser, but we have an entire battle barge; we out number you three to one."

"Why are you telling me?" asked Gechorus, "I have surrendered to you."

"We need to know how many marines will be like you, and how many we will need to kill?"

"I am Gechorus of squad Pantaleon," said Gechorus, "I know my squad leader is of the same mind, and the others under his command will follow him."

"Any more?"

"Squad Myrsinus," he replied, "A devastator squad, they use lascannons."

"And the Company Commander?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"Take us to your squad."

Gechorus looked back at the room he left Xilthara in, should he bring her with him, or leave her behind. She was involved with a pleasure cult of Slaanesh, but she showed no sign of disloyalty to the Emperor. Would she accept Gechorus now, after he betrayed the Emperor.

"What is it?" asked Brutaka.

Gechorus quickly turned back to the Chaos Marine, "Nothing."

"Someone is behind that door," said Brutaka, eagerly. He began to walk to the door to investigate.

"No," argued Gechorus, "there is no one in there!"

Brutaka paused, "You are a bad liar, Brother Gechorus," he turned to face the terminator, "There is someone in this room, someone very dear to you."

Gechorus started revving his assault cannon again, and stared the Chaos Marine down, if he dared to open that door…

"Do not be afraid," said Brutaka, "I sense this relationship that you share was key to breaking though the steel wall the imperium had set in your mind."

"You will not kill her?"

"Why would we destroy a brother's source of freedom? It is precious and must be protected."

The door opened slightly, Gechorus spotted it in the corner of his vision; he wasn't the only one, some of the other marines in Brutaka's squad noticed too. None were worried or showed any signs of hostility towards what was behind it.

She saw that no one was fighting and she stepped out into the hallway. "Are these not marines of Chaos?" she asked cautiously as she looked at Gechorus standing and talking with them.

"They are our way out of here," he said, "The ways of the Imperium are not relevant anymore."

"But how can you…" she looked around at the violet space marines, their armour adorned with symbols of Chaos and Slaanesh. She moved closer to one of the symbols emblazoned onto the pauldron of the nearest space marine. Fixated by it, she touched it lightly and mumbled under her breath, "Slaanesh…"


	7. Chapter 7

They made their way to the Reclusiam, Xilthara was riding on the shoulder of Gechorus' mighty terminator armour. They had found their new allegiance, the traitor warband known as the Knights of Ecstasy. No more fighting for the Emperor, no more living by the commands of the imperium, but Gechorus had to wonder, was chaos now his master? How many morals would he have to abandon to stay alive among his new brothers.

The squad vox fuzzed into life and Pantaleon's voice was heard, "We are waiting for you in the Reclusiam, Gechorus. Where are you?"

"Sergeant Pantaleon," replied Gechorus, "my instinct tells me that Squad Myrsinus has gathered in The Reclusiam with you."

Pantaleon did not answer.

"I have a squad of heretic brothers with me. If there is a plan in place, now is the time to set it in motion."

"Understood, brother," confirmed Pantaleon, and the vox connection was closed.

"And what if there is no plan in place?" asked Brutaka.

"Then I will be found a heretic and be put to death," answered Gechorus, "But I have faith in my sergeant."

* * *

><p>They reached the door to the Reclusiam, "The Company Captain is in here," said Gechorus, "and I do not think that he will turn."<p>

"Then he needs to be killed," replied Brutaka.

"Yes," sighed Gechorus, "but we do not need to all go in, just me. A fight would break out as soon as they saw your armour and we can avoid that."

"What about me?" asked Xilthara.

"It will still be dangerous in there," he explained, she was small, almost like a child next to the marines. He did not want to take her into a fight, but he knew the alternative; to leave her in the care of the chaos marines. They professed to be brothers now, but how could he trust them with something so precious.

"We will look after you," said Brutaka, he removed his helmet to reveal a pale bald head with a stretched and sharp grin pulled across it, he kneeled down to get close to Xilthara and look into her face.

"I trust you," she said to the chaos marine, "we have the same mark," she revealed her Slaanesh tattoo to the marine.

His smile growing, Brutaka put his arm around her and pulled her close to him, "Like family," he said.

"No," said Gechorus firmly, "I cannot let you leave me, not now."

The smile dropped from Brutaka's face as Xilthara walked back over to her guardian.

He looked down on her and said, "stay behind me if there is a fight. I will protect you." And he pushed open one of the great double doors to the Reclusiam.

In there the relics and reliefs of Silver Griffons long past looked down on the marines within. A reminder of the devotion to the Emperor of mankind shown by the Silver Griffons through the millennia.

"Gechorus!" greeted Company Captain Casidus, "Nice to have you with us," he had Chaplain Dionis with him, no doubt organising defences against the chaos invaders. Looking around briefly, Gechorus could see that Squad Myrsinus was there in full along with the rest of Squad Pantaleon. This was no coincidence.

One nod from Myrsinus to Pantaleon was all that was needed for the 'plan' to go ahead. Gechorus did not know if they had discussed anything, or they all just knew what needed to be done on instinct alone.

"Casidus!" called Pantaleon, "Dionis!" The two high ranking space marines looked up from their planning to see what the sergeant of terminators had to say. "Evidence has come to light that heresy has taken root within this company and this ship. Brother Gechorus himself brought it to my attention."

"What heresy, Pantaleon?" inquired the Chaplin as he approached the sergeant. He looked down into the eyes of the terminator with the cold black sockets of his skull helmet.

Pantaleon explained, "There are marines on this ship in silver armour that will follow the invading forces. The simple fact is that we are going to die here and now if we do not surrender to the greater force that is in front of us." Such a simple explanation for things so complex, that was all Pantaleon needed.

"I would sooner die here than become a heretic and an enemy of the Emperor," snarled the chaplain

A large metal hand grabbed the backpack of the chaplain and pulled him to the ground before he could notice; it was Loukios with his power fist. Once he had him pinned, Remus slammed down, into the Chaplain's chest, destroying his body.

The Company Captain was not shocked, he stayed calm, but the look of disappointment and shame was easy to be seen on his face. "This is the path you take, Pantaleon?" asked Casadus looking away, averting his gaze from the betrayers and his now lifeless brother, he mumbled under his breath, "I have failed the emperor." He raised his sword up to his chest and ran at the sergeant. Pantaleon pulled his sword from his side and readied his feet into a combat stance.

Four loud cracks in the air were heard and the Company Captain fell. He was struck four times by lascannon fire from Squad Myrsinus. His final noble charge was cut short and turned into a stumble and a fall.

"What are you doing?" exclaimed Pantaleon.

"Killing the one who was master over us," said Myrsinus.

"But he deserved more," argued Pantaleon, "he is still our brother and should have at least been given a noble death."

"I didn't see you treating the Chaplain with such respect," commented Myrsinus, "he's dead now, we should leave him." The devastator squad then left the room.

The body was left on the floor with holes burnt right through his armour. The man who had led them for hundreds of years was now discarded; he was not needed any more.

Gechorus pulled his helmet off to see the slain Captain with his own eyes. Once he had, he did not want to look at him, a necessary deed maybe; but a good and honourable man had now been betrayed by his brothers.

"Who else will join us?" asked Gechorus.

"There are a few," replied Pantaleon confidently, "I am certain of it. Doubt runs deep in this ship." Pantaleon turned to leave the Reclusiam, expecting to have his squad follow him, Loukios and Remus followed.

Gechorus turned to Xilthara who had witnessed the betrayal of the company masters. "You did not need to see such things."

"But it's what you wanted, isn't it?" she asked.

"I wanted to be rid of the Imperium," he said, glancing once again at the body of the fallen captain. "but betraying my brothers is not something I could possibly desire. Casadus has been as family to us for many years, to be even partly responsible for his death is…" he paused.

"What?" she asked urging him to finish, "Are you ok?"

"It's very hard," he said simply.

"What is that sound?" asked Xilthara, quietly to Gechorus.

Gechorus listened out and could hear an unmistakable cacophony coming from a different area of the ship, different to the other sounds of battle. "Noise Marines," he said.

"It's a good sound, like some crazy music, it's fantastic."

Gechorus had been trained to hate that sound and everything that was associated with it. Now he needed to accept it; perhaps in time the sound of an allied noise marine may even sound like sweet music to him too. "We need to leave with the others."

They left the room together and on the other side of the door, the three squads were meeting for the first time.

"So you are the heretics that have boarded our ship," said Pantaleon.

Brutaka raised an eyebrow.

"Welcome aboard," the terminator sergeant said, arm extended.

Brutaka reached forwards and shook the hand of the Silver Griffon. "I heard Lascannon fire. I assume that was you," he said looking at Myrsinus.

Myrsinus nodded, "We killed the Captain of our company."

"A mighty act of betrayal," commented Brutaka, smiling, "may I see him?"

Myrsinus looked over at Pantaleon, "We do not think it would be necessary," said the Terminator.

Brutaka's eagerness backed down quickly "Who am I to argue when faced with Terminators and Lascannons. Surely it was satisfying, no?"

There was no reply from the silver marines.

"Someone's coming," mentioned one of the marines in squad Myrsinus.

"Yes," said Brutaka, "I contacted the nearby noise marines, I knew they would want to meet you."

Meeting with noise marines, not something Gechorus ever thought he would do; fight noise marines, kill noise marines, but not speak with them. Noise marines are sonic wielding maniacs that are totally devoted and obsessed with Slaanesh and all the sick pleasures they believe he brings.

The squad leader for the noise marines walked round the corner fist, wearing the same colour violet as squad Brutaka. He had a bolt pistol and power sword holstered at his waist and simply walked towards the silver griffons. His squad of marines, that were carrying elaborate and bizarrely engineered tools of sonic destruction, followed him.

"Brother Reptile," said Brutaka, "I knew you would want to come and see our new brothers."

"A pleasure," replied Reptile, he removed his helmet to reveal a bald head, with no ears and sharp features. "I trust the battle has gone well for you?" he asked Brutaka.

"To tell you the truth, brother, we have not seen much action."

"No?"

"There was the potential for many kills, but we did not see any of it. Gechorus there killed all of the resistance before we broke through," he said pointing at the killer.

"Really?" asked Reptile with a smile, peering at Gechorus to see him for himself.

He saw Gechorus on his knees, he had kneeled down to be closer to Xilthara, the closer he was to her, the more comfortable he felt. He liked being near her, she distracted the mind and comforted the body, exactly what he needed.

Gechorus looked up and saw a small figure moving amongst the noise marines. Something he did not expect to find in the middle of a chaos invasion. It was armoured and carried a strange weapon, but Gechorus knew what it was. It was the unmistakable shape of a tau warrior.

"You work with Xenos?" asked Pantaleon to Reptile, once he saw the alien.

Reptile glanced down at the tau beside him, then back at the terminator, "Some of us live with Xenos," he said with a smile.

"How could you lower yourself to such levels?" scoffed Pantaleon.

"You speak of levels defined by the Imperium," explained Reptile, "We are free from such restrictions."

Pantaleon stepped forwards and grumbled, "It's disgusting, you disgrace yourself. Astartes should know better."

Reptile grabbed his bolt pistol from his side and raised it to point is squarely at Pantaleon. "You would insult my companion?"

Pantaleon smirked and raised his gun, "Your companion is beyond insult, it is your own actions that are so deplorable."

The Noise marines had also set their sights on the terminators, as well as Squad Brutaka.

Gechorus stood up and moved closer to his commander "This is not the time to be petty, sergeant!"

Xilthara spoke up as well, "We all need to work together, here," her voice was shakey; she paused to breathe and continued, "Who cares what he does with aliens?"

Reptile nodded in agreement with the documentarist.

"Who are you to tell me how to think?" spat Pantaleon.

Xilthara then stepped back, into the shadows and back into anonymity.

Guns were raised by all the Knights of Ecstasy in the room and all were pointed at one space marine. That one space marine looked around to see that not only had the writer stepped back, but so had the rest of his squad, distancing themselves from the bloodshed to come.

"Stand down, Pantaleon," ordered Myrsinus, Pantaleon glanced over to see four Lascannons aimed at him as well, "We need this; we cannot let petty squabbles get in the way of our salvation."

Gechorus could see that Pantaleon had come to his senses, he took a deep breath, holstered his gun and said, "My apologies, I will leave as a brother, not an enemy."

The violet astartes lowered their weapons slowly, Brutaka commented, "You have made the correct decision, my brother," his smile had completely left his face, "Come, we need to move on."

Brutaka waited for Pantaleon to walk past him, he and his squad then followed. They did not want to let Pantaleon leave their sight; Pantaleon accepted this and kept walking. The other Silver Griffons and Knights of Ecstasy followed too.

All but Gechorus, who kneeled down to Xilthara and asked, "Have we made the right decision?"

"That decision had to be made," she remarked, "or we would be dead. Now we need to make the most of it," she reached up and planted a small kiss on the side of Gechorus' face.

He smiled, stood up and held his power fist out for her; and she climbed on to his shoulder once again. He then left to join his brothers.

* * *

><p>THE END<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Thank you for reading this story all the way to the end, I hope you've enjoyed reading it. Please take the time to leave a review and tell me what you thought, I love to know what people think of my work and how I can improve in the future.

Maybe I could be persuaded to write a sequel.


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